Tuesday, December 7, 2021

The Spell by Nancy J. Hedin New Release Blitz

Title: The Spell

Author: Nancy J. Hedin

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 12/07/2021

Heat Level: 2 - Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 46600

Genre: Fantasy, LGBTQIA+, Lit, paranormal, lesbian, bisexual, magical realism, humor, painter, magic user, spell, real estate broker, police officer

Add to Goodreads


What if you could enter and roam around in any painting and then return to your own reality—or not? Would you do it? Would you sit in on the Lord’s Supper, snuggle the Mona Lisa, or have a painting made of something—or someone—in your past or future you long to visit?

Waverly Ames is given that ability through a spell book she finds while on vacation. What’s more, her brash, beautiful neighbor, friend, and dog-walker Jewel is a painter who can fulfil any commission. And then there’s Camille, the married woman who captured Waverly’s heart—the woman Waverly can’t get over.

What happens when lust meets magic? What happens when being somewhere, anywhere is as simple as a painting and the artist’s intention behind it? Can you truly have your heart’s desire?


The Spell
Nancy J. Hedin © 2021
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
Broken Heart
Waverly Ames had regrets, but none bigger than losing her first love, Camille. She wept and petted the thin leather cover of the spell book that was her only remnant of their week-long love affair the year prior. That was, the only remnant if Waverly ignored her ruminations, incessant second-guessing, and full-body ache to be with Camille again. The affair had ended without goodbyes, promises, or any way to contact Camille. They each returned to their own lives: Camille returned to her suburban home with her husband and two daughters, and Waverly returned to…what? Her apartment in a co-op building, her former job in real estate, and her unrealized dream of being a poet. She felt robbed.

She heard a key snick in her front door lock, the door creak open and click closed again. Waverly’s dog, Stella, barked and bounded to the kitchen. Baby talk and padded footfalls in the galley kitchen followed by the rattle of condiments and juice bottles inside the door of her refrigerator as it was opened, robbed, and slammed shut again. She wiped her eyes, dabbed her nose, and hid the spell book under her couch pillow. She didn’t want Jewel to see her being a baby. How could she have any tears left? She’d cried every day since Camille had left her. Waverly had made a resolution to be a grown-up.

She supposed it was time. Hadn’t most people set aside their childish dreams and taken on the mantle of adulthood by age thirty-five? She took back her old job in real estate, which she hated, and she had bought a condo she couldn’t really afford. That was what grown-ups did, she told herself. Grown-ups did not plan to be poets, fall in love with married women, and live in month-to-month apartments based on whether there was a good vibe for writing poetry there. She hadn’t written a single poem since she moved into the place.

The cupboard doors clicked, dishes clinked, and silverware jangled against glassware. The noises used to frighten Waverly, make her hold her breath, look for her phone and a weapon, but over time, she only found the intruder annoying. It was just Jewel.

Jewel Cartwright, beautiful, brash, sinewy, younger than Waverly, on the early rungs of her third decade. Jewel lived in an unusually large studio apartment on the same floor as Waverly. Jewel’s space had no furniture other than a futon on the floor, but the windows were the size of garage doors and looked out on both downtown St. Paul and the bluffs and winding Mississippi River. Jewel was a painter. She sporadically worked a job restoring fine paintings, but mostly, Jewel painted her own work and filled her apartment with her paintings and the copies of other great paintings she replicated. She never grocery shopped and was always hungry. Shortly after Waverly bought her place and only days after she’d met her, Jewel insisted she was the best person to fill the dog-walking job Waverly posted on the co-op message board.

Jewel became Waverly’s official walker for Stella, Waverly’s seventy-pound shepherd-lab mix. From that point on, Jewel had a key to Waverly’s place, but came in at non-dog-walking times—no knock, no advanced warning.

Jewel stepped out from the kitchen and scanned Waverly’s face. “What? What’s that look? You don’t want me, change the locks.” It was complicated. Waverly did want her to walk Stella, so she put up with Jewel coming in at her leisure and often making herself a sandwich or eating Waverly’s leftovers. Stella, too, was eating a giant sandwich but not before she had peed a trickle on the floor in her excitement to see Jewel.

Waverly didn’t want Jewel to see her crying again.

“What’s wrong?” Jewel asked.

“Allergies.” Waverly blew her nose. “Why does my dog like you better than me?”

“Duh, I take her on walks, let her eat whatever she wants, and I tell her adventure stories where she is the femme fatale, the secret agent, the top dog.” Jewel kissed Stella on the head and stared at Waverly. “Don’t tell me you have been crying about Camille again.”

Jewel sat. Stella jumped up on the loveseat beside her as Jewel unloaded her stash. Once her hands were free to rub Stella’s ear, Jewel again talked baby talk to Stella. “Your mom is a silly goose obsessing about that naughty Camille when she could have lovely Jewel.”

Stella’s hair wafted into the air and onto the rug, furniture, and Waverly’s black jeans.

“Stella, tell Jewel to mind her own business.” Waverly sat up straight on the couch, reached back to snag her russet-brown hair, twisted it in a coil on her head, and secured it with a pencil. She took deep breaths. She noticed that Jewel stared at her breasts as she chewed. Waverly took the book out from beneath the pillow and held it in front of her chest. “Are you staring at my tits?”

“Cows have tits. I’m staring at your perfectly lovely breasts. They’re like warm kittens or hamsters under your shirt. Can I touch them?”

“No.” Waverly threw the spell book at Jewel and immediately regretted it. She didn’t want to damage the book, and she didn’t want anyone else touching it.

Jewel ducked. The book hit the wall, ricocheted back, and lay at her feet. She picked it up with her free hand. “Oh, Christ, haven’t you burned this thing yet?” Jewel crammed part of a pastrami and cheddar on sourdough sandwich in her mouth and gave the remainder to the dog. Stella planted herself on the rug like Jewel might change her mind and ask for the sandwich back.

Jewel stood and unloaded some of her plunder onto the coffee table, smearing the latest issue of Architectural Digest. She flopped down again on the love seat and flung her leg over the armrest without any embarrassment that the skirt she wore was entirely too short and she wore no underwear. “I’ll burn it for you. I have a lighter in my pocket. I could torch the thing right on this table.”

“No, you can’t.” Waverly tossed a throw blanket to Jewel. “Cover your junk! I can’t think with genitals in my face.”

“Excuse me, but I have no junk only jewels! Besides, you could use some genitals in your face so you’d stop obsessing about Camille.”

Stella burped. Jewel burped.

“You don’t understand.”

“What’s to understand?”

That was the thing, really. No one seemed to understand how important Waverly’s first real love affair had been. Maybe no one understood because they hadn’t had Waverly’s beginning. They hadn’t been orphaned at age six, shuttled between foster homes until finally, Waverly’s mother’s sister relented and said she would “take the girl.”

Who else knew of the shock of losing parents being compounded by being placed with loud, disinterested foster parents with homes that smelled of urine and Hamburger Helper? After three of these nightmares, Waverly finally landed where her parents had informally and unofficially wanted her to be if, God forbid, anything happened to them. God should have forbidden all of it, starting with the car accident that had killed her birth parents and continuing into Waverly’s school years in the care of cold, withholding, puritanical custodial parents who rationed their affections.

Add to that Waverly wasn’t her aunt and uncle’s birth child, and she didn’t want to be a nurse or schoolteacher. She wanted to be a cowboy briefly, and then she wanted to be a poet. She didn’t want to marry a man. She was attracted to women.

She was an orphaned misfit like an extra piece of hardware in the IKEA box. She didn’t fit anywhere. College was a dream in most respects. She was expected to be independent. In college being queer wasn’t a big deal. It made her almost interesting. She’d had girlfriends before—brief flirtations, one-night stands, and brief stints of cohabitation in college and graduate school that faded like fad diets and new year’s resolutions. Of course, Waverly clung to Camille. Camille was the first woman who had loved her with tender passion. Camille had swaddled Waverly in attention and adoration as Waverly nuzzled in Camille’s arms, drinking her in with her eyes.

Jewel dug a squished package of Little Debbie Swiss Rolls from her tank top. “How many people do you know who can hide chocolate-covered, crème-filled snack cakes in their rack?”

“I don’t know many.” Waverly shook her head. “Don’t give any of that to Stella.”

“I know dogs can’t do chocolate. Anyway—” Jewel licked her fingers. “What’s to understand? You met a woman, a married woman, a straight married woman, I might add…”

“Camille was not straight, I can assure you that.” Waverly’s head bobbled a bit, and she gave an impish grin.

“I know, I know, you made love every day, many times a day. You’ve told me a million times.” Jewel drank milk directly from the carton—Waverly’s carton. “I’m telling you, Waverly, plenty of straight women won’t say no to a week of orgasms independent of some guy slamming against them. But Waves, she went back to her husband and left you with what? A hole in your heart and that dumb book. You need to burn that book and cauterize the hole in your heart so that you can heal. Give the book to Stella as a chew toy. I gave her a Bible and two self-help books. She’ll be shitting psalms, proverbs, and platitudes for days.”


NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Nancy Hedin, a Minnesota writer, has been a pastor and bartender (at the same time). She has been a stand-up comic and a mental health crisis worker (at the same time). She wants readers to know that every story she writes begins with her hearing voices.

In 2018 Nancy’s debut novel, Bend was named one of twenty-five books to read for Pride Month Barnes and Noble, and was named Debut Novel of the Year by Golden Crown Literary Society and Foreword Indies Honorable Mention for GLBT Adult Novel of the Year.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Pinterest | Linkedin


One lucky winner will receive a $50.00 NineStar Press Gift Code!  

a Rafflecopter giveaway  

This competition ends on January 4th 2022 at 12am EST. Competition hosted by NineStar Press. 

Blog Button 2

Deck the Halls with Books Holiday Extravaganza: Jasmine Moon by Celia Breslin

Holiday Spritz Cookies

My family enjoys making cookies for the holidays. We like to do pizzelles, snickerdoodles, chocolate chip, thumb print, and last but definitely not least, spritz. They’re great with hot cocoa or a nice cup of tea. 

Here’s my mother’s recipe for spritz cookies…

3/4 cup regular sugar (some recipes call for “powdered”, but mom swears by regular)
1 cup margarine, or butter, or shortening (mom uses shortening; I use butter. Both are delicious.)
1 tsp. vanilla
1 egg
2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 tsp. baking powder
1/4 tsp. salt

1. Preheat oven to 350 F.
2. In a bowl, mix together margarine (or butter or shortening), sugar, vanilla, and egg until fairly fluffy.
3. Stir in flour, salt, baking powder.
4. Optional: separate dough into bowls and add food color of your choosing. (Mom prefers liquid food coloring; my kiddo and I often use neon gel food colors).
5. Fill cookie press; press dough onto ungreased cookie sheets. (Our press includes a variety of patterned discs, and we switch shapes about every 6 cookies)
6. Bake for 12 - 15 minutes.
7. Remove from sheet and cool on cookie rack.
8. Store in holiday tins, or… Eat. All. The. Cookies! Bon appétit!

Jasmine Moon
Black Hills Wolves
Celia Breslin

Genre: Paranormal Romance
Publisher:  Decadent Publishing
Date of Publication: June 3, 2016
ISBN:  9781683610458
Number of pages:  108
Word Count:  36,400
Cover Artist:  Fiona Jayde

Book Description:

Tech mogul and workaholic Wolf Evan Luparell has little time for distractions but takes a break for his brother’s wedding in South Dakota. When asked to escort another wedding attendee from the airport to Los Lobos, he agrees. Then he meets the curvy spitfire, and she ignores him.

Designer and Wolf Mina Carver didn’t mean to be rude to the handsome, glowering man claiming to be her ride, but she was busy working. Now she must endure a ride to the Black Hills with the cranky but sexy Dominant Wolf. Unexpected mating energy sparks between them, but still—should she dismiss, or kiss him?

Kisses win and they agree upon a no-strings fling. But with each wedding activity throwing them together, and their powerful chemistry and mate compatibility complicating matters, can two workaholics truly have their fun then walk away?

Amazon UK       Amazon US     BN     Bookstrand 

Google Play       iTunes     Kobo     Smashwords


Evan tipped his head and eyed the ceiling. Prompt replies, punctual people. Striking deals and hitting deadlines. These items made his world tick. Not loitering around a miniscule airport pulling a Waiting for Godot moment on infinite repeat for a no-show, flakey designer from California.

God grant him patience and balls of steel when he showed up without the designer and the all-important wedding dress, because his future sister-in-law Darci would certainly be unhappy. […]

He took a deep fortifying breath and froze. Airport smells assailed his senses—the sharp tang of bleach and lemon-scented cleaners, […] coffee, donuts, fried fast food, and under it all, the distinct musk of wolf.

Female wolf.

She smelled damn good. His wolf perked up, and his legs propelled him toward the empty baggage claim, where one bright-pink suitcase covered in Hello Kitty stickers sat, unclaimed, on the unmoving L-shaped conveyor belt. Her scent, stronger here, socked his gut, and his gaze shot to the corner.

The chaos around the woman stunned him silent. Large, paper coffee cup, half-eaten banana, and a quarter of a powdered doughnut perched on a brown paper bag next to her. Crumbs splattered the linoleum and the woman’s long-sleeved blue blouse in a thick layer of white, sugary dust. On her other side, two pink garment bags lay like corpses, along with a bubblegum-pink unzipped duffel as long as her outstretched, denim-clad legs. Some of the bag’s contents—pads of drawing paper and large swaths of fabric—protruded over the opening, the fabric splaying over her legs in a rainbow-colored blanket. Her feet peeked out of the mess, encased in sparkling pink UGGs. Good grief, sequins? She smacked her shiny boots together in a poor imitation of Dorothy and bobbed her head from side to side in time to some music only she seemed to hear. Her shoulder-length red hair, the color of ripe dark cherries—his favorite fruit—gleamed under the harsh airport lighting and curtained most her face from his view, save a pert nose and small chin, both speckled with a generous amount of freckles.

He’d always liked freckles.                     

Clearing his throat, he stepped closer, but she didn’t flinch in surprise or look up. Her attention remained on the tablet on her lap, the stylus between her pale, freckled fingers swiping without hesitation over her screen. […]

He positioned himself right in front of her wiggly, booted feet. “Excuse me, J—”

“Sh.” She raised her arm and flicked her hand in the universal get lost gesture.

He gaped at her. “Excuse me?”

Another wave of her hand while her stylus streaked across her tablet screen with the other. “Not interested.”

Nice voice. Low and husky. Her attitude, on the other hand… “But—”

“Go away.” Her velvet voice carried a stubborn edge.

In other circumstances, he would’ve admired her strength. But he’d wasted copious amounts of time hunting for the clearly inconsiderate and irresponsible female. “Fine. Get your own damn ride to Los Lobos. Jasmine.”


About the Author: 

Celia lives in California with her husband, daughter, and two feisty cats. She writes urban fantasy and paranormal romance, and has a particular fondness for werewolves, vampires, and the Fae. When not writing, you’ll find Celia exercising, reading a good book, hanging with her family, or indulging her addiction to fantasy TV shows and movies.

Newsletter:  http://eepurl.com/bxqwRL 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

MARS WARS SERIES Virtual Book Tour

 Mars Wars Series:

Detonation Event (Mars Wars Book 1)

by John Andrew Karr 


GENRE: Science Fiction



For decades the Space Consortium of America has searched for new ways to harvest resources beyond an increasingly depleted Earth. The ultimate plan is about to be ignited. So is the ultimate threat to humankind . . .


Battle-hardened Captain Ry Devans and his crew of the Mars Orbiter Station One (MOS-1) are part of a bold plan: resurrect the active molten cores of the Red Planet with synchronized thermonuclear explosions, and terraform the hell out of that iron-oxide rock for future generations. It’ll change history. So will the strands of carbon-based Martian cells that have hitched a ride on the ship.

Dr. Karen Wagner knows the microbes’ resistance to virus is

incredible. It’s the unknowable that’s dicey. Her orders: blow them into space. But orders can be undermined. Two vials have been stolen and sent hurtling toward the biosphere. For Devans and Wagner, ferreting out the saboteurs on board is only the beginning. Because there are more of them back on Earth—an army of radical eco-terrorists anxious to create a New World Order with a catastrophic gift from Mars.

Now, one-hundred-and-forty-million miles away from home, Devans is feeling expendable, betrayed, a little adrift, and a lot wild-eyed. But space madness could be his salvation—and Earth’s. He has a plan. And he’ll have to be crazy to make it work.



From Destination Event, Mars Wars, Book 1

The barren red face of Mars grew before them.

The space shuttles of two centuries earlier had orbited Earth at roughly five miles a second. Doubling that speed, even tripling it—and in a hurry—was within easy capability of the PS-class shuttles.

Devans threw in a series of mild doglegs to make it a little interesting for Wagner. He had to admit, the youth had staying power. An hour later and Wagner hadn’t even taken a bathroom break. Two blips showed up on the main hologram of the planet below. They marked tunnel locations T1 and T2 as yellow-highlighted lines that shot straight down. Both had tiny right angles at the ends where the bombs were housed.

As they approached the space over T1, the surface camera feeds showed nothing but a mass of gray-and-red dust. Very little wind speed. It was thick but gentle, like a snow globe after its been shaken.

“Raise shields, Nuro,” Devans said. “Shannon, how about splashing our entry on the big monitor here and the feed to the crew?”

The shuttle’s shields warded off the entry heat and they entered the anemic Martian atmosphere.

“Withdraw shields, Nuro.”


“Nice sandstorm,” Devans said, gazing at the roiling wall hundreds of feet high.

“Dust storm!” Trent Wagner said over his shoulder as he leaned back and forth on the table as if shredding the galaxy’s longest wave. “This is the tail end of it!”

“How long until cleared?”

“Two or three.”

“Couple, three hours, not so bad.”

“Weeks,” Wagner said.

“And here I just had this thing washed. Let’s go to the dark side for now.”

The sun cut a divide on the red planet’s surface. PS-9 easily outdistanced the storm and raced over the desert surface to the dark side. The second blip beckoned them on the navigation screens. Near total darkness pushed against their vessel lights.

This was the eve of the moment they all had labored for…One last manual check and they would attempt to resurrect Mars with synchronized thermonuclear explosions at the core.

At least, that was the plan.


AUTHOR Bio and Links:

From his home in Wilmington, North Carolina, John Andrew Karr (also John A. Karr) writes of the strange and spectacular. He is the author of a handful of independent and small press novels and novellas, and also leaves in his wake a trail of short stories.


Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/John-A-Karr/e/B003DVNQ8G%3Fref=dbs_a_mng_rwt_scns_share

Twitter: @johnandrewkarr1

Instagram/Tumblr: johnandrewkarr

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RgMXLJ0MK2Q

Detonation Event: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07D6BDQBC

Rogue Planet: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07XFMCD21



One randomly chosen winner via rafflecopter will win a $50 Amazon/BN.com gift card.

Monday, December 6, 2021

Christmas in Smithville/ Shadows in the Salon Tour and Giveaway


Christmas in Smithville

The Hometown Series Book 4

by Kirsten Fullmer

Genre: Contemporary Holiday Romance

Even though Gloria is determined to change her reputation, most of the women in town still think she’s a tramp. Sure, she may have dressed a little flashy and dated pretty much every single guy in town, but that’s the past. Now that she wants to make a fresh start, will Smithville give her a second chance?

Ned has heard all the gossip, but being the Sheriff’s Deputy, he sees all the kind things Gloria does behind the scenes for the folks of Smithville. It looks like the upcoming Christmas Pageant will offer him the opportunity to spend time with her, but can he overcome a frustrating stutter and talk to her, face to face?

Your favorite characters from the Hometown Series bring craziness, love, and Smithville Christmas style, to a whole new romance about overcoming your past and sharing your deepest secrets. Fall in love and be swept away with the Christmas Eve celebration of your dreams.

**Only .99 cents!!**

Goodreads * Amazon

Shadows in the Salon

Sugar Mountain Book 3

by Kirsten Fullmer

Genre: Holiday Cozy Mystery, Sweet Romance

I loved this book! It’s the third book in a series in a little town where the characters are funny, smart, amazing, and unique!”- 5 star review

One of my new favorites!”- 5 star review

A spooky mystery, a promising romance, and a secret society of scheming women…

The cozy town of Sugar Mountain, NC harbors a secret society of women. The society itself is not secret—it’s the devious work of the group that is mysterious.

Michelle owns the Salon, Shear Genius, on Sugar Mountain Main Street, a favorite with the tourists and locals alike. Lately she’s dealing with mysterious problems. She’s being plagued by spooky and unexplained goings-on. Is it a sign from beyond that she should rethink her life choices?

Matt Hopkins moved to Sugar Mountain after losing his business, but thanks to the lovely and talented Michelle, he is now building an amphitheater in town. It looks like things are finally going his way until Michelle is threatened by an eerie aggressor and the Mayor’s involvement spells trouble for his project. Will Matt be able to complete the Amphitheater and help Michelle, or will things with her fall apart as well?

Facing puzzling complications at every turn, The Sugar Mountain Ladies Historical Society go undercover to figure out who is threatening Michelle and the new amphitheater. If they’re not careful, the society may fall apart and Michelle and Matt might end a promising romance. Come along for the ride on this zany, enchanting, romantic cozy mystery!

**Only $1.99!!**

Goodreads * Amazon

Kirsten is a writer with a love of art and design. She worked in the engineering field, taught college, and consulted free lance. Due to health problems, she retired in 2012 to travel with her husband. They live and work full time in a 40' travel trailer with their little dog Bingo. Besides writing romance novels, she enjoys selling art on Etsy and spoiling their three grandchildren.

As a writer, Kirsten's goal is to create strong female characters who face challenging, painful, and sometimes comical situations. She believes that the best way to deal with struggle, is through friendship and women helping women. She knows good stories are based on interesting and relatable characters.

Website * Facebook * Twitter * Instagram * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads

Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!

$25 Amazon


a Rafflecopter giveaway

Peanut Blossoms and the Matchmaking Kitten Tour and Giveaway


Peanut Blossoms and the Matchmaking Kitten

A Christmas Cookies Novel

by Claire Davon

Genre: Sweet Holiday Romance 

Oriana's first Christmas away from her family promises to be a lonely one—until a two-pound bundle of kitten trouble shows up! When the kitten's owner, her neighbor Jet, takes Oriana under his wing, she tries to tell herself that he would do this for anyone, but she can't help but hope for more.

Will she find her Christmas miracle at the paws of a mischievous kitten? Or will the holiday be as lonely as she anticipated? She expects the latter but wishes for the former. Anything is possible at Christmas.

Add to Goodreads

Amazon * Apple * B&N * Google * Kobo


The grey and white cat rubbed against my leg and then tried to climb up it. His sharp claws dug into my calf. I bent down to remove him from my flesh at the same time someone knocked on my door.

“Who is it?” Scooping up the kitty I tucked him in the crook of my elbow as I went to the door.

I peered through the peephole and my breath caught. Standing outside my door was a delicious hunk of man. He had a tousled, distracted air and was sweaty. His sweatpants and sneakers suggested he had been running. I hadn’t heard him leave, but the apartments that direction were near a back staircase. 

“It’s Jet. Your neighbor. Sorry to be a bother. Your light is on so I’m hoping I didn’t wake you. I’m looking for a cat. Did you see one by any chance?”

Good looking men made great criminals. “Describe the cat.”

His smile even through the distortion of the peephole could have lit a hundred women on fire.

“The rascal is grey and white. Got a purr like a freight train and a bit of grease on his tail from where he was stuck in the car engine.”

Trusting strangers was how people died. “How do I know you’re my neighbor?” The cat wriggled and I let him jump down. He scurried to the kitchen and tried to leap onto the counter, but missed. He bounced and then straightened, shaking his body before he started grooming himself.

“I reckon you’re right. Can’t be too careful. Back in a jiffy.”

I glanced at the cat as his footsteps retreated and then returned. 

“Here.” Something slid under my door. A driver’s license. It bore an awful picture of the man I had seen in the peephole and identified him as Jethro Tallans, resident of my apartment complex.

“I guess you are who you say you are.” I reached for a spoon anyway, just in case. 

“Yes ma’am. Have you seen my cat?”

I kept the spoon at the ready and opened the door.

The kitty paid him no attention when Jethro stepped inside, but I did. All my senses roared to life at the incredible 6’2” specimen of man. His hair was brown with streaks of red and his eyes were the kind of color people called hazel. He had a marvelous body with wide shoulders that begged to be leaned on. His legs…well…I could imagine them on mine. 

I stared at him for a beat too long. A smile tugged at Jethro’s lips. He held out his hand for his license. I handed it back to him, my cheeks reddening in the quiet.


“My uncle is named Jethro. I don’t cotton to the name. Been Jet all my life.”

He had a faint twang that placed him somewhere down south, but I didn’t know a Texas accent from a Louisiana one. I’d been told they were different. 

“Hi, Jet.” I put the spoon down and offered him my hand. “I’m Oriane. Is this your kitten?”

“Meow. Meow.” The kitty clawed at my ankle and I swooped down to grab him. Jet held his hands out for the cat and I deposited him in his hands. 

“Yes ma’am. This rascal’s mine, at least for now.” He gave the kitten a scratch and the loud purr that accompanied the caress rumbled through its small body. “Two days ago, I was at the mall and I heard meowing. He must have crawled into the pickup’s engine and fell asleep there. Guy who owned the car barely gave me time to get him out. He blazed out of there as soon as I freed the scamp.”

Good looking and he rescued animals. I had to fight to keep from swooning right then and there.

“How did he get into the hallway?”

Jet gave a rueful, lopsided grin that just about had me turning to mush. “He slipped outside when I was fixin’ to go on my run.” He gestured toward my front door. “Scared me to death when I came home and couldn’t find him.” His relieved smile told me that he was telling the truth.

“I’m glad he’s okay. You’ve got an escape artist on your hands.”

“I know.”

“What are you naming him?” I doubted he would keep the kitten but maybe he would find it a good home.

“I should call him hellion but I’m thinking Buster. I have a feeling he’s going to be busting a lot of things.”

We were winding down on small talk and I had to let him make a graceful exit. Even though I didn’t want to.

“Buster. You’re one lucky cat Buster. Jet, it was nice to meet you. I should let you get this crazy feline back to your place.”

Jet gestured to the cookie makings on my counter. “And I’ll let you get back to whatever tasty treat you have there. Nice to meet you, neighbor. Oriane. You know where to come if you need to borrow a cup of sugar.” His eyes twinkled and it was all I could do to keep from passing out.

“I suppose I do.”

Claire can’t remember a time when writing wasn’t part of her life. Growing up, she used to write stories with her friends. As a teenager she started out reading fantasy and science fiction, but her diet quickly changed to romance and happily-ever-after’s. A native of Massachusetts and cold weather, she left all that behind to move to the sun and fun of California, but has always lived no more than twenty miles from the ocean.

In college she studied acting with a minor in creative writing. In hindsight she should have flipped course studies. Before she was published, she sold books on eBay and discovered some of her favorite authors by sampling the goods, which was the perfect solution. Claire has many book-irons in the fire, most notably her urban fantasy series, The Elementals’ Challenge series, but writes contemporary and shifter romances as well as.

While she’s not a movie mogul or actor, she does work in the film industry with her office firmly situated in the 90210 district of Hollywood. Prone to break out into song, she is quick on feet and just as quick with snappy dialogue. In addition to writing she does animal rescue, reads, and goes to movies. She loves to hear from fans, so feel free to drop her a line.

Website * Facebook * FB Group * Twitter * Instagram * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads

Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!

$20 Amazon

a Rafflecopter giveaway

The Spell by Nancy J. Hedin New Release Blitz

Title : The Spell Author : Nancy J. Hedin Publisher : NineStar Press Release Date : 12/07/2021 Heat Level : 2 - Fade to Black Sex P...